Survival Requiem
by Octoya
Summary: In the short days before the Levianta Catastrophe, Elluka Chirclatia finds herself caught in a nightmare where everything feels like a dream, and not even her beloved and sister-in-law can help. There's something even more sinister going on in Levianta than a deadly competition. Is it possible for her to escape from her fate? Or is the future set in stone?
1. Prologue

Before me is a golden field.

The one who tends this field reaches his hand out to me.

My sight is full of blood and tears; even if I try to reach out to him, I can't make my hand meet his for all of the world.

In my head aside from this is but a memory flickering out of existence, a dark memory of a fall and growing cold.

Sick.

But before me, even the golden field is melting away.

The one who tends the field, with his outstretched hand, becomes far away

In my ears I hear,

"This is getting old."


	2. Breakfast

It's cold outside when I open my eyes, and I just want to stay in bed.

Of course, it's December. Levianta has some of the coldest winters, and there was already a shower of snow falling outside the window.

I rub my eyes and, although it's chilly and I need to get dressed, I sit up and throw off the blankets.

 _What a nightmare..._

In truth I can barely remember the dream now, it slips by so quickly. I'm just glad it's over.

By the time I'm getting dressed, I see a lunar calendar posted up over the bed.

Huh—I don't remember seeing that before. It's a little crooked and it's covered with red marks. The day of the full moon is circled.

The full moon is—two weeks from now.

The final selection isn't that far after that.

Thinking about that time is just making me anxious, so I'll forget about it and go downstairs.

...It seems I slept in, the sun is already up. Even so, there isn't a soul about the house, and I have to wonder where my sister and beloved have gotten off to.

By the time I get downstairs and into the workroom, I have my answer. He's fast asleep at the table and there's a smell of breakfast coming from the kitchen.

I gently tap him on the shoulder, "Wake up, Kiril."

"Ah, Elluka..."

He looked over at me and smiled, lifting off the hard desk. His glasses were a little crooked; I fixed them while he was still yawning.

"You shouldn't stay up so late, it's not good for your health."

"My beloved worries too much about me," he said softly, with a smile. "Until it's the queen of Levianta who says so, I won't obey that."

I only gave him another smile.

In truth, who knows if I'll become the new 'Ma' with those other influential candidates?

He looked over his worked and sighed, "Ultimately, I couldn't get much done."

Set in front of him were many materials and a half-finished doll, which he had started the night before. It looked to me as if he didn't get any farther on it, only assembling some of the machinations. That showed him what staying up late would accomplish.

"Next time, I'm not going to bed until you're with me."

He looked back at me, blinking, and then a smile came across his face. "Is it cold up there without a second heart beating?"

"It's cold all right," I gave him a kiss, and I saw him fumble with his glasses, a gesture that he did when I embarrassed him like that.

It was such a familiar gesture, he must have made it a hundred times and he never failed to do it. I kept my arms around him, "So, drag yourself from this worktable if you have to, when it's in service of keeping me warm~."

"..."

I stopped and started again. I looked up and his glasses were already back in place.

Neither of us spoke next until I uttered a little sound.

It took forever, and then he eventually smiled back. "I...can smell something..."

"Oh, is that my little sister making us breakfast?"

Her voice came from the kitchen, "Someone has to. You know this is close to lunch too, right?"

Sometimes Irina becomes sullen, but it's not because she's angry, but just because she gets tired in the mornings. I let Kiril go and we both walked into the kitchen, and I saw her making potato pancakes, my cute little sister.

Briefly, I think that maybe she's going to poison me with them.

So, with a smile, I shove the first two into Kiril's mouth.

He's fine~. I knew he would be fine. Because Irina wouldn't hurt me like that no matter what was at stake. So I eat as many pancakes as I can.

"You're getting fat eating like that," Irina said.

"Oh, my, are you fattening me up for some devious reason?"

"She's not getting fat!"

This was my morning in the Clockworker House, with the two people who mean more to me than anyone, on one day out of the week when there's nothing going on. It was my favorite time.

Today, it felt a little different.

As though nothing we were doing meant as much as it should, as much as we acted like it did. I don't know how to explain it, so I just ignore that feeling.

But...

It grows. There's an artificiality to it all.

Maybe I'm just anxious. I need to savor these moments.


	3. Bedtime

That afternoon I saw through our window as a red cat ran through the street. It dashed over pavement, avoiding other people, and settled by a newspaper vendor as though he had some reward to give it. I don't like cats, so I usually just don't pay them any mind, but there was something striking about it.

It was a very bright red, this cat, with eyes that followed people.

I may have seen such an unusual cat somewhere before. I don't remember now, but it was definitely on this street.

If there's something I can do to keep cats from coming visiting this spot so often I would do it. They've never given anything but trouble.

That evening we went to bed, and this time I made Kiril to follow me up the stairs—his work was finished, there was no reason to start something up now when the hour was so late.

He didn't say anything except, "To you maybe, everything is finished, but to me…"

"Bedtime."

He laughed at me and murmured, "You sound like a mother."

I poked him in the stomach, "You sound like a child."

He clung to my arm and whined, "Then I'll put up even more of a fight against going to sleep~"

Like that, laughing, I dragged him all the way to the bedroom—and he let go, defeated and ready to sleep like he ought to.

This, too, was artificial. It felt different from the days when we would bicker about going to bed. When Irina was already tucked tightly into her own room and the work table was finally cleared, but he wanted to keep the night going. Tonight, we both knew the outcome already.

Thirty minutes after laying down my head, I was almost already asleep when I felt his warmth go away.

I opened my eyes and Kiril was standing in a blur beside the bed, getting dressed again. "...?"

"Ah-!" He turned to me, clutching a notebook to his chest, and there was an expression on his face I hadn't seen before. A trembling hand reached up to fix his glasses and he smiled at me, "...Well, you found me out."

"What are you doing?" I sat up in bed and rubbed my eyes, before the black and could claim them alone; sparks of purple run across my tired vision.

"Doing...it's, just a surprise for you two..." The notebook tilted forward in his arms, and he twisted it around in offering to me, still with that startled smile. "If you want to spoil it now, that's your prerogative."

Has Kiril, in our relationship, ever tried to surprise me with something? It was always that requiring approval, giving honesty, and being too nervous to hide a secret that betrayed any surprise for him. He had left his surprises behind since the day we met.

Now there was an open secret in his hands. I yawned; what was this nonsense. "No, just put it down for now and go to bed, please~."

His face relaxed and the glasses came off, "If you say so, beloved."

I pressed my head on the pillow and under the wave of blanket. "The bed's cold so, hurry up."

"Ha ha...I'm just your radiator."

"That's right~."

I don't think, after going to sleep, that Kiril got up again that night. I wouldn't be able to tell, if he was quiet enough and my sleep was deep enough. But the notebook was put away and he was fast asleep when I opened my eyes the next morning. I peeked through it before he woke up, but there were only notes that I didn't quite understand; measurements and ingredients for paint, an inventory of gears.

I made sure to close it before he woke up, of course.


	4. On the News

It's just because our days are being numbered until that time.

That next afternoon we heard on the news that Ly Li was dead.

He was holding his hands in mine and she was curled up alone, eyes fixed to the screen when it showed Ly Li's mangled body with blood and broken bones all over her. A graphic warning didn't stop us from looking away.

They said it was a horrible, tragic accident.

I reached and brought Irina into my arms, and his were then around us both, and I said, "It's going to be alright."

And she said, "Isn't it?"

What kind of question was that?

What kind of question is that to ask?

In response to my comfort you say something like _that._

I only hold her tighter.

The video keeps going on; it was such an unexpected thing, but even the most serious people can be careless when under such stress, to fall like that. She fell off a cliff and broke her neck, it was a painless death.

Isn't it only the more horrible to say something like that?

If someone were to die and not even realize it, precisely because it was painless, it's a frightening thought to me.

"Irta Li is conducting an investigation into the death of his daughter, but as it stands it's an open and shut case of negligence...the managers of the tourist site..."

Kiril shut the news off. He was fidgeting with his glasses in that moment, "Maybe if we—don't—listening to that isn't—going to change anything."

"Yes, brother." Irina buried her head in me and closed her eyes tight. I could feel her shaking in my arms—it was foolish for me to think she meant anything sinister when she said...

Now it's too quiet, though.

Irina's eyes opened again and looked at the black screen. "Do you think Milky...?"

"I have work to do when the shop opens again, so maybe you could make us dinner, sister?" Kiril had gotten up, letting go of us, and was stretching as though it would soothe his clear trembling.

Irina got up too and nodded, "Yeah. Will you come help me in the kitchen, big sister?"

"No thanks~." I yawned and stretched and she glared at me. "I'm not hungry right now."

"Is it because you're fat?"

I shot up, "Just for that, I'm making dinner!"

"Big sister's trying to kill us all!"

I laughed, but from the doorway Kiril was looking at us both with such a horrified expression, as though we were both madwomen. The TV had only just turned off a minute ago.

We both smiled deviously, like madwomen, and he gave a sheepish squeak before fleeing to the workroom.

Dinner was beef stroganoff, by the efforts of myself and Irina, and it was quite good. Everyone had a second helping and the news started to filter out of this house, little by little.

But afterwards I had to wonder;

Do I think Milky what?

That she was watching this news too? Do I think Milky knows? Or, no...

That she had...?

Of course, it was crossing my mind even now. There were only three of us left; although surely trouble came from those who supported any one of us, it was also surely possible that, of those two...

My sister...and Milky...

When I think about it, my heartbeat rises and I don't know what to do, so I just don't think about it. I'm scared and I need them both, my loved one and my little sister-in-law.


	5. The Present

"I have something for the two of you~."

Even though the atmosphere got better after that dinner, it stayed the same for two more days. We weren't serving customers with a smile much anymore, even though Kiril tried his best to keep smiling.

He was smiling now, and this time I didn't know why.

"Shouldn't we open the shop now?"

He shook his head, "We can open in a minute."

Both I and Irina in attendance, we looked at each other and started to smile without really knowing why, if only because he seemed excited. "What is it, Kiril?"

"Don't keep us in suspense, big brother."

In front of us, suddenly he was holding a box wrapped in red wrapping paper, large enough that he needed both hands to hold it and a familiar shape.

Beside me, Irina gave a squeal, "A present? You got me a present?"

I continued to look at that box, and my hand was only just raised but not reaching out to it. "No...it's for-"

"It's for both of you!" He cut me off with that finished sentence, and I looked up at him. He smiled at me, and I smiled back. "So, don't you want to know what's inside?"

We set the box down on the table; I took a penknife from my pocket and began to cut at the wrapping paper, while Irina tore with her hands, and ribbons of red fell to the floor.

What was sitting in front of us was, simply, a music box.

Well, to say it was simply that would be inaccurate. It was a most beautiful, flawless music box that was encrusted with jewels and gilded with rose gold, a tiny mirror inset at the top. Although it was studded with jewels, the top was flawless except for that mirror.

When I turned it over to wind it up, there was an inscription on a brass bottom:

 _For the two who are everything to me, Irina and Elluka. May we continue to be happy together._

Irina was speechless.

And then she squealed, leaping from her chair and throwing her arms around him, babbling hysterically, "It's so, so, so beautiful! Thank you thank you! Thank you big brother thank you!"

" _Ha ha ha_ , don't forget that it's Elluka's too."

I turned to them with a wide smile, "It's absolutely perfect, my love. Is that the surprise you were working so hard to make?"

He adjusted his glasses, "I won't say that's the cause of my sleepless nights, but..."

I also leaped to him and wrapped my arms around him, squishing my adorable sister in law to give him a kiss. "I love you~."

"I love you too."

My heart is feeling cold.

My heard is hurting a little bit.

I could swear something's wrong.

I can't remember what it is though.

* * *

For a week, for more than a week, we were happy again.

I think.

Whether everything was alright, I'm not certain. But, with that melody, the music box made us happy even when there were other worries on our minds. We could smile at the customers again and Kiril continued to work.

But then we watched the news again and saw it.

Milky's dangling body.

A horrible, tragic suicide.

I wasn't holding Irina, I wasn't holding Kiril's hand, even though I knew his arms were around me again and I was the one shaking.

I was just looking at the screen.

Looking at the other candidate dead.

A suicide?

No.

And beside me, Irina's eyes were also fixed on the screen.

No one was talking this time, no one was moving on to dinner. No one turned the TV off.

"The Senate is conducting an investigation into the death to see any relation between Milky and the accidental death of Miss Ly Li, but so far...few leads...note said nothing..."

Slowly, quietly, by us both he whispered, "It's going to be okay..."

It wasn't.

Because in the next few days we two were summoned to the Royal Institute. For the final selection.


	6. Confrontation

He was getting supplies for our trip back there. He'd forgotten to get food, even a little food for sandwiches. He kept insisting, kept insisting we'd be hungry during the wait.

I honestly didn't know if I wanted to eat anything at this rate. I would probably just throw it back up anyway, my stomach was tying itself into so many knots.

He kissed me goodbye, he kissed me a long goodbye and said he'd be right back.

But that had been a couple minutes ago. The grocer's wasn't far from our house, and I had no idea what was taking him so long. I was tempted to just leave and bring him back myself so we wouldn't be late.

If we were both late...

Well, actually, I didn't know what would happen if we both were late.

But in any case, I couldn't move from where I was standing at the moment.

We stood apart from each other, Irina and I, in that back room. We didn't say anything. Had we said anything? These past few days, aside from greetings and "yes" and "no" did we say anything?

The only thing in this room, aside from the tables and chairs and work materials, was the music box.

I went and wound it, so it could play that melody once again. It was beautiful, as beautiful as the box itself was. The melody also felt familiar to me, and so it calmed me down.

"Sister-in-law..."

By this time, she started crying. Even when she was crying, I would rather stay by that box than her. That was the feeling in my heart.

"Let's stop this already."

It was as though her sobs were becoming in rhythm with the music box.

"It's just us now, we're the remaining candidates."

It's just a statement of fact, but it's stating more than just that.

The other two died...because of someone. There were supposed to be four people at the final selection but now the Senate is going to have a much easier choice than they should have.

"It's meaningless."

Meaningless...

Meaningless for it to come down between the two of us. In the past, we had said that if "I didn't win" or "she didn't win", it would still be for the best as long as it was _one of us_ that won. Because...as long as either of us beat out those two, then we'd bring many blessings onto this small family of ours.

But that was before "beat out" became...

"Sister in law, you should be the queen."

I stop, as she keeps on talking. Her voice is cracking and I can see the tears in her eyes. It occurs to me, maybe those tears are real.

"Because even my brother loves you."

I start. Of course they're real. What could make me doubt otherwise? Because I was afraid? But my sister was sniveling in front of me, and it's clear now that she had also been afraid this whole time.

Irina, I'm sorry.

I hold her in my arms, my poor little sister. She was crying alone in that space between us, but I hold her in my arms and I tell her it's going to be okay. She's going to be okay and we'll figure this all out together, and...

And...

And...

And...

...


	7. Another Day

I wake up and it takes me a few minutes to do it. For a while, I'm just staring at the wall and trying to stay warm in our bed, because I'm all alone in it. Either Kiril got up early, or...

No, he stayed up all night again.

Well, I rub my eyes and start getting dressed; there's no need to stay in bed all day, after all, and there was a nightmare lingering on my pillow. I rub my stomach and take a look at the lunar calendar hanging over the bed; the full moon was circled, Kiril must be taking an interest, since during the full moon will be the final selection.

Because of a bad dream, and because there isn't a soul upstairs I dash down the stairs and call out for them, "Irina! Kiril!"

"Huh?" He's only just waking up at his worktable. "Wha...t...?"

I hit him on the back of the head and he jolted upright with a yelp, me exclaiming, "You shouldn't stay up so late!" Fixing his glasses for him, I then added, "It's not good for your health, beloved."

"You worry too much about me...until you're queen of Levianta, I'll do as I like~."

I only smile at him, for his unending support. But if Irina was in the room, he wouldn't be saying such things, would he? I can smell breakfast in the kitchen and perhaps that's her, unable to hear his quiet murmurs over the snapping on the stove.

"I couldn't get much done, though," he was looking back at his work and giving a small sigh.

I bring my arms around his neck and rest my head on his, "Next time, I'm not going to bed until...you're with me...because it's cold up there."

"Oh, it's cold..."

"I smell something in the kitchen," my stomach is growling horribly now, I pull away and look to that other room. "Is that little sister making us food?"

"Someone has to," Irina called, in response. So, she could hear after all.

"I'm starving, let's go get something to eat, beloved."

"...Yeah," with another yawn he stood up with me and left the messy worktable behind.

I didn't eat that much this time; somehow I wasn't too hungry, losing my appetite on my first mouthful of potato pancake. But I made sure to give a lot to Kiril, since it was Irina making the pancakes.

"Big brother's getting pudgy thanks to you."

"Well, sure! I can't eat him unless he's fat enough, little sister."

"S-stop—I'm not fat!"

Today I felt a little nauseous, so I excused myself from breakfast early. It wasn't that I wanted to not spend time with these two—and there were only so many quiet days when we had our company to ourselves, but somehow the more we talked, the more uneasy I felt.

I tried to calm down looking through the shop window, Kiril and Irina cleaning up the dishes this time.

I saw running through the street a red cat.

I do know it, I've seen that cat somewhere before. But there is no other time I can pick out where I saw that cat...

It looked at me before running away, the sneaky thing.

* * *

We went to bed together, Kiril and me, only after it was very late. Irina had already gone to bed long ago, and Kiril and I stayed up late working on a doll he didn't finish the night before. It gave him a lot more trouble than usual. I think, like me, he's been distracted with the goings on lately.

He worked by the stairs, and kept glancing up like he too was anxious to go to bed, but the doll was rooting him in place as he affixed the gears and added screws.

I only sat next to him with sleepy eyes and rested my head on his shoulder. He said he'd be up there as soon as it was presentable, so why not wait?

Even if it was already growing late and he still hadn't finished yet, "Kiril, darling..."

"I'm almost done. Please be patient with me..."

"..."

The doll's painted face stared at me while a strange man worked on her insides, looking like a patient who was, horribly, wide awake to an unaware doctor. Then again, it couldn't be that horrible. There's no reason to put a doll to sleep if they have no nerve endings. If she had nerve endings, maybe she would start screaming at him to knock it off and go to sleep, stop causing her this pain and assembling her guts.

Her metal guts.

Sometimes I wondered if Kiril was having these kinds of thoughts as he put screws in his creations. That wasn't fair, though; if anyone was going to play doctor around here I wanted it to be me.

"Darling..."

"Almost there, I just..." there was another look to the stairway. "Can't go to sleep yet."

"I'm ready to smash that doll and drag you up there," I murmured into his shoulder, my eyes closing.

He chuckled, "Don't do that."

I don't remember much, only that when I peek my eyes back open the workings on the doll are still exposed. Even though it looks like she's complete, he still tinkers with the different gears and winds it up to see the little legs move and eyes blink. Unsatisfied, he tinkers again.

"...Kiril..."

"I'm almost..."

* * *

I dreamed about a doll that ate my hands and locked me in the closet, because I was the evil wife of a mad doctor who drew dragons in blood all over the stairwell. Irina turned into a mouse and ate the closet for me, but by then the doll was gone and so was the doctor.

They eloped without me.

When I woke up, I was at least in our own bed and not growing sore on the stairs. Buuut...Kiril was also gone from the bed.

I sighed, and went back to sleep.


	8. Another Iteration

When Milky died I loved and comforted my sister.

When Ly Li died I feared her.

Within a span of three days we went like this, from helping each other cope with an unfeeling newscaster to looking at each other with cold glances across the room.

Not even the golden music box, which was so beautiful and played so lovely a melody, could soothe my fear.

To see Milky's mangled body at the bottom of the cliff and believing that Ly Li had...and then to see her own hanging corpse, and to realize that someone had to have done it. And that this someone was probably...

Even Kiril couldn't be approached with this. He loved us both; that was why he gave us the music box. Alone I had to live with this fear and hope it didn't come true while the time passed slowly.

Finally the selection was drawing near.

Kiril was nervous, Irina was nervous, and I was nervous.

The two of us were summoned to the Temple, then, and on that day it was if a spell of silence was over all of us.

I woke up and went downstairs, and the only sound was my footsteps and the clump of snow falling off the roof outside.

Kiril and Irina were already up and waiting for me in the kitchen. Neither of them had smiles on their faces, but, seeing me, he at least tried.

I tried back.

The kitchen light looked so dim today, it was only lazily giving light over us. There was a humming somewhere, it might have been from the fridge. Looking down at the floorboards, they also looked grungy—there had been no one cleaning for a while.

I took a deep breath, "Is anyone hungry?"

"I had some of your leftovers from last night," Kiril said.

Irina shook her head. "I'm not hungry."

"You really should eat something, even if you're not hungry. You need to keep your strength up." I walked around her in a wide circle and went to the fridge, looking aimlessly for something to eat. There didn't seem to be anything left from last night.

"...I'll be fine..."

With a sudden cheer, I heard my beloved speaking from behind, "I made sandwiches for you, in case either of you got hungry."

"Oh?" Kiril never makes food for us, even if it's as simple as assembling meat and bread, he lacked the confidence. But, after all, it was a special occasion. "Thank you, beloved."

He smiled at me. I tried back. "It's nothing. We should hurry and prepare so neither of you are late. If you were late for the selection, it would be awful..."

On the ride to the Temple, Irina didn't look at me and I didn't look at her. We spoke only to Kiril. Kiril spoke only to both of us, as though believing that he could bridge the gap by his presence or by keeping the music box close.

It was a very long journey and poor Kiril just made it longer.

But, we made it.

Somehow we made it. I could see the Temple in view; there were a lot of people outside waiting to see us.

And then when we stepped inside, there was no one.

No one but the agents of the Senate, that is.

Kiril they made wait outside.

And we walked side by side with just a scientist ahead of us, my little sister and I, and we didn't say a word.

They brought us into the center of the Temple for the final test.

Of the two of us, one would become selected to be the new 'Ma'.

...

The end result was:


	9. Small Talk

Today, after waking up, I saw a red cat out by the shop window.

I know I've seen that cat before.

Was it in a dream?

* * *

These weeks were awful, some of the worst that I've ever felt. I had no idea how much like an automaton I could be until the day that we heard of Milky and Ly Li's deaths. Both of them stabbed to death in their homes, and the culprit could have been "anyone".

I and my sister, we barely spoke for days. I barely even spoke to my beloved. Every move I made, I seemed to make trembling. I was like a malfunctioning machine. And yet the most talented Clockworker in the shop couldn't fix me, couldn't make me run right and prevent this sleeplessness. This barrage of headaches.

On one day, I woke up to find him massaging my shoulders.

"...You fell asleep at my worktable."

"You're not mad?" I looked back at him.

He shook his head. "No. You didn't see my plans for your and little sister's surprise did you?"

I yawned and leaned back. "No..." I somehow couldn't get up the energy to be even excited over a rare surprise from Kiril. I just had a headache.

Seeing my reaction, his smile changed. "...Elluka...It's going to be alright..."

I briefly wondered if, somehow, the reason he was not like me and Irina in this situation was because of his…condition, from before we'd started dating. So he wasn't affected because, for him, this was all...

He knew it was bad for me, but did he really mind it?

...I must have had some kind of expression on my face when I was thinking that. He'd stopped with my shoulders and was sitting beside me. He was looking at me then without a smile, but just as I worried that I'd conveyed my careless thoughts to him he moved and kissed the top of my head. He mumbled, "I'm sorry."

Poor thing. I softly smiled back, even if I wasn't in the mood to smile. "You didn't do anything."

"—Well, I—" he swallowed. "I just—wish that there was something I could do."

I patted him, awkward as it was. "You're already doing all you can."

"Mm..."

I hated this silence between us. For a brief moment, I even blamed him for it—forgetting my earlier reservations about thinking too badly of him when my face was an open book. I was just getting annoyed. Because he should be more talkative, if he's the one unaffected by death, instead of placing the burden on me, someone who is very affected by death.

He finally did talk. "But you should eat something. Okay?"

"Okay."

It didn't matter how much I ate.

Or how many times I faked a smile at Irina.

Because ultimately, the result of the final selection was something I couldn't prevent.

* * *

Those days were like dreams, and I was dreaming too deeply to question each one. Or maybe it was just that I've forgotten too much.

Milky died.

Ly Li died.

Somehow I almost forgot those things, and as a consequence I went about as though everything was normal when I shouldn't have, when it would have been prudent to keep them in mind.

Kiril gave us that music box.

I forgot that too, and as a result I thought that everything between me and Irina was…

But those things came back to me when it was too late, when I was starting to question these hazy days, but when I was already falling back asleep. There was a cold floor underneath me, but I already felt warm as I closed my eyes. I had remembered everything that happened over the last two weeks, which I had pushed to the back of my mind, but I still was preparing to dump all of that away on this floor while I slept.

It's so warm…

I've even forgotten what it was that I was doing all this time.

It's okay. I'll remember it sooner or later.


	10. The Rice Field

The next thing I knew, I was in a field of golden rice. I wasn't wearing any clothes.

"!"

Somehow, although it was startling, I didn't feel too embarrassed. I didn't see any other people around at first—but I thought, as though in a dream, that it wasn't a problem even if other people saw me naked.

Besides, I didn't look naked the way I usually do. I was smooth. Like a doll.

Yeah. This has to be a dream. There's nowhere in Levianta that looks like this, and I know I was just in the Levia-Behemo Temple a few moments ago.

I thought as much even when I saw someone else coming towards me, dressed in humble clothes that were a make I didn't recognize.

"!" He was coming closer. "Excuse me..." I took steps back.

"Look." He held out a hand, and in a flash of light I saw him summon a long rod-like object. A spring onion, like some of the ones Kiril had to refresh every so often. Was he a mage? A dream based mage for my surreal rice field dream?

With the green onion, the man took another step forward and I took a step back. He seemed somewhat suspicious, with long black hair tied loosely in the back and dark angry eyes. "I'm looking..."

"Take it."

He was close enough now that I could see for sure that he had a very stern expression on his face. I was a little frightened. All the same, I also had the feeling that I've seen this mage before.

But as to where, I didn't have any idea.

"...What am I supposed to do with it?" I mumbled, crossing my arms over my chest and looking down at my bare feet.

"Just take it."

"No, thank you."

As I looked up, his stern face became even sterner and I felt even more afraid. He came forward until there wasn't much distance between us and put the spring onion right in my face, so that I'd have to take it if I wanted to see anything. Taking a step back didn't occur to me until I already had it in my hands.

"Look, I'm sick of this. Held is sick of this. Even those two, who keep losing and achieving freedom, are getting sick of it. Well, or so I'd assume..."

Did he say Held?

What is he even talking about?

"If you want things to change, and to get out of this boring repetition, then use this spring onion when you next wake up. A friend of mine will call for you, and everything will be explained," said the mage with the harsh face.

This dream was…starting to feel like it was more than a dream. With that, I was starting to feel chills run up my spine and I held the spring onion tighter in my hands. "Who are you?" I mumbled.

He paused. "I am...a sorcerer, who specializes in time."

A sorcerer specializing in time?

Still, I was hesitant to trust him. Especially if he's not just a mage for me to talk to in my dream. I took a step back. "I don't want to be associated with anyone who's an associate of Held," I said.

"I'm not an associate of Held," he said. "...I was just making an expression before."

"I somehow doubt this is true."

To this, he sighed and looked off behind me; when I turned, I didn't see anything there except for more rice fields. Then he began to speak, although it was quiet and to himself. "I take the time to bring you here myself and I get brought up short because of this?"

My stomach suddenly felt cold. "What do you mean you brought me here? This is a dream isn't it?"

He laughed, but his smile didn't reach his eyes, "Is that what you think this is?"

"...If it's not, where am I? And...what did you do with my clothes? And where's Irina? We came into the temple together...!"

Brief memories were coming back to me as I held that spring onion...

In front of me, the sorcerer specializing in "time" was looking at me, "I'm sure that if you think about it, you'll remember why you're here."

That's right. I had memories...

Memories of falling to the ground and my body growing cold.

Memories I didn't like.

But, that wasn't the only memory I had. And that was what didn't make sense, what made me want to just forget about it altogether.

I looked back up at him and saw his eyes staring straight through me. I started to tremble all over.

And then the rice field began to melt away. While that was happening, I watched the mage sigh again. His face suddenly looked incredibly exhausted, and I fell away from him in the next moment.

Slowly, I fell far from the rice fields and everything turned white.

I held on tight to the spring onion.


	11. The Truth

This time, when I wake up, there's something clutched tightly in my hands.

When I throw off the covers and shiver, the air around me too cold, I see at once what it is.

...A spring onion.

Today, it's dark outside our window...I woke up earlier than I expected. It seems like, usually, I'm waking up when it's already close to noon. Now it must still be early in the morning—even so, I'm the only one in bed. Kiril may be downstairs, still asleep.

I have to move carefully on the old stairs, each one with its own unique creak. The door to Irina's bedroom is closed—she must still be asleep as well.

Down to the first floor, I'm still shivering in my nightgown—clutching the spring onion tight to my chest I forgot to put on anything more than what I fell asleep in. There's a robe hanging by the workroom—I take that instead.

Down here, Kiril's slumped over his worktable, softly snoring.

I can't help but stroke his head just once, seeing him sleep so peacefully. I wonder if he only recently dozed off…The doll is still unfinished on the table.

Now I creep outside through the back way, stepping out and shivering in a snowy backyard.

I shake the green onion in my hand and it glows, before long becoming dazzling. I'm not just shaking because that's how the thing works, it's ridiculous how cold it is today.

The ground isn't frozen yet, however—I stick the spring onion deep into the earth, even though I'm shaking.

He slipped it into my hands for a reason, didn't he?

I wait and then I call, "...Hello?"

At once, I heard, "Elluka? Is that you?"

"It's me. But who is this?"

From the other end, it was a deep and sleepy voice, "That isn't important. Did you just awake?"

"Hold on, I don't even know why I'm supposed to be talking to you! Why were you, were you waiting for me to receive this spring onion?"

"…You might say that. I see nothing's been explained to you."

"The mage I met in the field, was he supposed to explain the situation?"

"The...mage...?"

"The one in the rice field, he gave me this spring onion and said you'd explain everything."

"Oh."

For a while, that was it.

I waited and pressed my ear close to the ground, but the voice did not rise up again. Sighing, I grew impatient and slapped the snowy ground—making my hand hurt, "Hey! I was talking to you!"

He again came, slower and heavier, "I am sorry, I was only thinking of something. Yes, the man in the field, what did he tell you?"

I stuck my hands under my arms and shivered, "Only that he was a mage specializing in time and that, if I wanted to get out of this…this…I should use the spring onion to contact you."

"So, you don't in fact have any idea what's going on?"

"That's what I told you! So what do you know about it? Why am I having such strange dreams about mages and receiving spring onions? Why does everything feel so wrong today?"

Wrong—I can't explain how but from the moment I got out of bed everything felt wrong. Everything has been feeling wrong...for what feels like forever.

His voice was low and calm as before. "...Elluka, the first thing you need to understand is this: this day, and the next two weeks, have been reoccurring on a loop."

"That's impossible," I snap.

"It's the truth."

For a while, I just sit back and stare at the spring onion, before wrinkling my nose. This has been reoccurring on a loop...I can't believe that. It's impossible; that would mean that time wasn't moving forward beyond this point, and that was something not even the most powerful mages in our world could achieve. This voice coming out of the onion was crazy.

"I know that it's something that's hard to believe," the voice continued slowly, "But if you think back, you'll know that it is the only explanation." After a long pause, in which I just looked up at the dark sky, he said, "You know what's going to happen this week. And the next."

Do I really?

I smiled wryly.

And then my smile slowly dropped.

It wasn't just my strange dream, but many strange thoughts I've been having lately.

Like, that I've gotten up and looked at that calendar hundreds of times before in the exact same way.

I remember, or almost remember, watching Ly Li or Milky die. Or...no, I saw their deaths on the news. They were so mangled...Or, Ly Li was. Or was it Milky that was mangled?

No, these were just feelings. I was just imagining scenarios in which Ly Li or Milky died, it can't be that this already happened.

The only unusual thing is that dream.

And, in that dream, I remembered something else.

That before that dream, I was in the temple with Irina.

There's a silence from the sky and from around me. In our neighborhood it isn't very noisy until the afternoon was well on its way, when everyone was hard at work and the streets were full of customers. Right now, everyone is asleep or quietly getting ready inside their houses. It's only me, with this spring onion, who's outside. And it's cold out here.

"How can this be?" I found those words finally falling from my lips. And then I pounded the ground by the spring onion. "You! You better tell me!"

"If I knew why precisely, I would," said the voice. "But it isn't that simple."

"I feel like my head is going in circles." I collapsed to the ground in front of that spring onion, holding my temples and clenching my teeth.

And he began, "Elluka, now that you are beginning to remember that things are repeating, it shouldn't be as hard for you to start remembering the repetitions. The magic that is causing this assures that other people don't remember unless specially prompted as you were."

"How many times-how many repetitions-it's all blurred together for me."

As I said, so, his voice became softer. "I can help you if you like."

"That's what I wanted in the first place," I muttered.

I was surprised that the spring onion was holding out so well and for so long, especially in this cold weather. But the voice on the other side didn't have any intention of stopping, at least so it seemed.

"To begin with, you should know that I and that...mage that you met, as well as—the gods of this world—they all remember each iteration. And now there is you. We are all the few exceptions."

"But why do I and you two remember and not anyone else?"

The voice paused and breathed slowly out. "The strength of our magic may be the reason. And, as well, our...specialty in time. But you, in particular, seem to be a crux of these repetitions."

I trembled; I couldn't help it, it was cold outside. "Me?"

"Every time that this world has reset, it has come after your death. So I and my friend, the time mage...we have decided that somehow you are the key to stopping it."

Now it was really cold out here.

"My death?"

The voice got quieter, slower, and it made me a little irritated. It was as if this man thought I was a child. "...Elluka. It's not always the same, but if you think hard enough, you should understand…at the end of these two weeks, you always end up dying."

I couldn't say anything. I was just slumped in the snow, looking at the glowing spring onion in front of me that was gradually starting to look awful while it spouted things I wanted to believe were lies.

I had memories of things I shouldn't have memories of. Like being in the Temple, with Irina. Or watching Milky and Ly Li die on the news. And the very nearest, blurriest memory was of me...

I squeezed my eyes shut but the voice wouldn't go away.

"-over time I and my friend have noticed repeating patterns to these iterations. They may indicate just who is responsible for what's occurring. We currently have no options. The kind of magic this would require, only a powerful god could achieve it in truth—" suddenly, though, the voice cut off.

I snapped my eyes open. "What is it?"

"Hide the spring onion. It won't do to get other people involved."

"Huh?"

" _Elluka!_ "

Giving a small jump, I pushed the spring onion down under the snow. When I turned, I saw Kiril running towards me with a large coat and a panicked expression on his face. The coat he put around my shoulders, and he began to ramble, "You didn't come down and you weren't in your bed and I got worried what are you _doing_ out here, it's _cold_ , you'll—"

"I'm sorry, Kiril."

I stood up and looked at him. Kiril stopped talking immediately. He took a deep breath. "What's—what's wrong, Elluka?"

Everything was wrong...

I'm going to die in two weeks. And we'll probably have the same conversation all over again about how late you stay up. And that's going to be our most meaningful interaction for the whole two weeks.

Stupid. I can't start crying just because of that.

"I'm—I'm sorry, I'm—" he was starting to stay, but with a wave of my hand I shut him up.

"I want to go inside," I whispered. "It _is_ cold out here."

I managed to keep my tears from falling for the most part.

But I think I just lost the spring onion.


End file.
